Love, Life and Loss
by AtticusLovesMe
Summary: An unexpected event leaves a family and a town in mourning, while a Gilmore pines for the life she left behind.
1. The Morning After

**Hi all. This is my second story, and since I was unsure about the uploading process of my last one, I missed a few steps. This time I will disclaim. Any recognisable characters are not mine. New characters are.**

**Please note that this story is set a little in the future. Lets say, its about mid-2011.**

**Also, parts of this story is not new, I've seen the basic idea done before, but this is my version and is hopefully pretty unique. If I have stolen any ideas, I truly apologise, but rest assured I'm not into plagiarism. Please feel free to leave any comments or advise - we're all here to improve! Enjoy :)**

1. The Morning After

They were awoken early one morning in mid-summer by the shrill cry of a toddler. Lorelai rolled over and glared at the baby monitor on her nightstand, blaming it for her interrupted sleep before the cries of her daughter registered. Grumbling, she moved to roll out of bed before Luke grasped her arm to keep her in bed.

"I'll go," he whispered in her ear, "It's only an hour before my alarm anyway."

Nodding her consent without a second thought, Lorelai snuggled back into her pillows preparing for the sleep she'll return to once Luke had calmed their screaming baby. She waited minutes but the screaming continued. Instead of calming down, Kaley's screams became more and more intense. Sighing, Lorelai climbed out of bed and made her way to the nursery.

Walking down the hallway in their house, the one they bought once Lorelai discovered she was pregnant with Will, she heard Luke talking to their baby daughter. "Come on, Baby Girl," Luke muttered as he rocked a red-faced, tear stained, Kaley in his arms, "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me where it hurts."

Lorelai approached them and placed her hand on Kaley's forehead as Luke turned her in his arms towards the door. "Something's wrong," he told her, "She won't calm down."

"I noticed," Lorelai murmured, "Something was bound to be, all this screaming and she's been sleeping through the night for almost a year now. Come here, Baby," she cooed as she reached for Kaley and pulled her into her arms, "Everything's going to be just fine." Kaley continued to scream. Lorelai brushed a hand over Kaley's forehead and through her dark curls before informing Luke, "She's warm and stuffy, but that could just be from all the crying."

"We'll calm her down and take her to the paediatrician when it opens." Luke told her with a worried frown.

"Okay, Mister Worried Daddy," Lorelai teasingly agreed with a smile, "I doubt it's anything worse than the sniffles though. She'll be fine."

"I'd still like to be sure."

"I know, hon, but remember, we're not being over-bearing over-protective parents, right?"

"And if it was a skinned knee, I'd gladly put a band-aid on it and kiss it better, but when it's something like this and I can't see where it hurts..." he trailed off.

"Okay," she said, turning her attention to her baby girl, "Shh, everything's just fine," she assured her. She was determined to be overly calm about this, knowing that Luke would worry enough for the both of them. Knowing she was being silly, she consciously ignored that gnawing feeling in her gut.

-XooooX-

She had been rushing around all day. It turned out that Kaley just had a cold, but she was grumbly and over-tired and Lorelai didn't manage to put her down until late afternoon. She had a number of chores she'd been putting off that needed to get done, and had plans to for an up-coming wedding she needed to work on. Luke had been busy at work all day, there rarely being less than three or so people in the diner during the summer. Will had yet to be picked up from his summer day camp, and Lorelai did not have enough hands or time.

She'd just managed to get a moment to pour over her notes when she was interrupted by a jingle from the front door bell. Grumbling, Lorelai spared her work a lingering look before she gave up and headed through to the front door. She slowly made her way there, collecting the discarded toys residing in the path on her way.

"I'm coming!" Lorelai called as the visitor began to knock at the front door.

A military soldier, tall and broad, stood on Lorelai's doorstep. He stood rigid with his cap in his hands, and asked politely, "Are you Lorelai Danes?"

Lorelai stood dumbstruck for a moment, not sure where she was, lost for a moment somewhere in time. "Uh, yeah," she answered finally with a weak smile, "That's me." All reasons for his presence on her doorstep were conveniently ignored.

"I'm Private Kenny Watson, Ma'am, I'm not sure if Rory told you about me at all, but I was stationed in the platoon she's reporting with in Israel."

He paused to take a breath, and Lorelai interjected, "Oh, right. Yes, I believe she's mentioned you a couple of times. You came home recently?"

"Uh yes, I was sent home to comment on the humanitarian issues that Rory has been writing about. What she's been writing about has become a high priority in recent weeks, and there's been major disruption."

"Uh, yeah, I've heard that it's getting more violent..." Lorelai prodded him when he failed to continue, "Kenny, uh, Private Watson? Did you, uh, want to come in?"

He looked around at the large yard and the neighbouring houses in the distance for a moment before nodding and following Lorelai into the house. Taking a seat on a chair across from her on the couch, he cleared his throat and tried to remember the speech he'd put together in his head. "Um... look, I um, I spoke to Colonel Spinnard late last night, the big boss of the operations in the area we're stationed in, and he asked me to come here and talk to you. To tell you that there was an uprising last night. The Israeli Government was unprepared... we were unprepared and..." as he spoke, Lorelai felt her heart stop beating. She held her breath, afraid of what the Private was saying. He continued, "There was an attack. Some of the people in the platoon came out, but they were unable to go back in after those who didn't... Rory and the other journalists didn't walk out. There's no real way of knowing, but in our experience, we have no hope for them. There was so much fighting, and bombing... I'm so sorry." he finished lamely.

Time stood still. She did not breath. Her heart did not beat. The hands on the clock did not move. The sun did not shine. The wind did not blow. The earth did not rotate.

Lorelai stared straight in front of her, unable to even begin to process what Private Watson had said. No thought crossed her mind. Watson began to mutter something about leaving that went completely ignored by Lorelai. It was not until he was heading out that she was struck back to reality by the door slamming behind Luke as he entered.

"Lorelai!" he called just before he caught sight of an unknown man standing in his foyer.

Private Watson introduced himself to Luke but did not like the idea of explaining again what he had come to tell Lorelai. He was saved by Luke turning his attention to a strucken Lorelai hovering in the doorway. "Lorelai?" he asked as all the breath left him; just seeing her like that... And an army officer in the house...

"I'm so sorry," Watson said once again, "I... Rory was so amazing. Unique. I-" he shook his head, unable to go on, and instead excused himself and left the house as quickly as he could.

Understanding dawned on Luke. He felt as dumbstruck as his wife looked, and it took him too many moments before he enveloped her in his arms, both of them pressing their eyes closed tightly as if praying it all to be undone. He held her tightly, needing to hold her and tell her he was there, but also to feel her hold him. She barely grasped him, almost oblivious to where she was or what was going on. The lighter she held him, the tighter he held her, as if he was afraid she'd just float away.

-XooooX-

The figure huddled on the earthen floor in the corner of the dark room was small and petite. She woke up disoriented and unaware of her surroundings. Stretching, she noted all the pains shooting up her body, injured muscles, her body covered in bruises and what she believed was probably a few broken ribs. There was a rank smell in the room, and as she let her eyes adust to the dark, she realised there was not much to see in the small radius her eyes could manage. She saw some dark figures in the room with her, but could not discern their shape or recognise whether they were human or not.

She shifted slightly, then groaned in pain when the movements disturbed her injured limbs. People in the room heard her move, and someone asked, "Mary?" before the another corrected him, "Her name's Rory, son. Rory? Are you okay?"


	2. Hollow

**I'd like to thank you guys for reviews! I'm so glad someone's actually taking an interest in this story, and hope you guys be patient with me, as I don't have to story written yet and don't have a lot of time. But the updates will continue as quickly as I can get them. The story will be dark for a while though. Just a warning.**

2. Hollow

The house was quiet when Luke returned home that night. Walking by the living room, he saw Sookie asleep on the couch, snoring softly. Taking the blanket off the back of the couch, he spread it over her sleeping form, not having the heart to wake her.

He was drained. So emotionally drained that he could barely function. The only thing that had gotten him home from Hartford that night was the thought of Lorelai, alone here in Stars Hollow without him. And so, he spent as much time as he could with Emily and Richard, explaining the happenings of earlier that day, with the image of Lorelai curled up on their bed where he'd left her.

_Telling Emily and Richard was possibly the hardest thing Luke had had to do in his life. To look them in the eyes, the in-laws he was stuck with but never felt any connection to, and tell them that their beloved granddaughter had suddenly died was more than he could take. He was still unable to comprehend the thought himself. To get those words out, to make is suddenly real by saying those words, Rory is dead, is something he was not sure he could do. Somehow, he'd found the strength in him, but unable to answer any questions himself, he soon felt his presence in the house was intruding._

Checking the locks as he walked through the large house, he finally let it sink in. _Rory's dead_, he repeated to himself, over and over. The whole idea seemed so surreal he could barely comprehend it. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare he'd unknowingly wandered into. _Rory is dead_.

_When Rory's job first took her overseas, to the Middle East, he and Lorelai (not to mention Emily and Richard) spent her whole trip worried sick. To say the least, they hadn't wanted her to go. But Rory was going to be a Foreign Correspondent. It was the plan, her dream, and her first break came at the tender age of twenty-five. For a month she went to Jordan to fill in for a holiday-ing journalist. She jumped at the chance, while Lorelai and Luke worried incessantly the whole time she was gone._

_When she returned, everybody let out one giant sigh of relief. She'd had the time of her life, gained experiences, and earned more by-lines in the process. Not long after her second trip, this time to Libya, was she offered a position at the New York Journal. At twenty-six, her career was headed for success. Well, with ins like Christiane Armonpour and Barak Obama, how could she not be?_

_With the support of those nearest and dearest, Rory was following her dreams across the world._

Luke looked around at his home, their home. The place felt different already. He looked from the living room, through to the kitchen, and across to the dining room. He couldn't place what it was, everything was as it was before, and yet it felt so different.

He made his way upstairs, and stopped in the doorway of their bedroom. Squinting through the darkness, he saw her asleep in the bed, just where he'd left her. He stood there for what felt like hours just staring at her, but was probably just moments. Unable to keep looking at her, he turned and made his way down the hallway, suddenly needing to see and feel his tiny children. To believe that they, at least, were still here.

He made his way into the yellow room and stared down at Kaley, breathing heavily and evenly in her sleep. A small smile made its way onto his lips, as he saw her sleeping so peacefully, the cold evidently wearing off. He ran a couple of fingers through her dark curls, so much like her mothers, and for a moment felt peace. The trouble he'd been feeling all day and would continue to feel for a long time to come was gone for a moment as he stared at her sleeping form. As he stared at her, he knew that in all its uglyness, there was still beauty in this awful world. There was still beauty here.

The moment was gone as suddenly as it came, and Luke, swallowing the lump that rose in his throat, carefully made his way out of her room. Doubling back down the hallway, he made his way to his son's bedroom. A lanky, skinny boy, William had lost the look of a toddler some time ago, regardless of the fact he'd just turned three. The boy was all arms and legs, and so full of energy that even Paul Anka could not keep up with him. Will rolled in his sleep, throwing an arm up over his head and letting out a snort as he adjusted his head on his pillow. Luke let himself release another small smile as he reached down and pulled the sheets Will had kicked off back up over him. He rested his hand on Will's chest for a moment, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing, before turning on his heel and leaving him too.

Making his way back into their bedroom, Luke paused in the centre of the room as he headed for the bathroom. He rubbed his hand through his hair for maybe the hundredth time that day, and let bed-time rituals be damned. Seeing Lorelai curled in the bed, facing away from him, he simply stripped where he was and crawled into bed behind her. She did not move as he pulled her to him; and taking a deep inhale of her, his nose buried in her hair, his breathing began to slow. However, he did not actually drift off. Once she thought he had, she grasped the hand that rested on her stomach tightly and was unable to keep the tears at bay.

He pulled her closer still and she did not relax in to him.

-XooooX-

When Luke woke up the next morning, after dozing for a couple of hours, he found the bed empty. He quickly rolled out of bed and pulled on yesterday's clothes before he hurried from the room in search of her.

When he entered the kitchen he found Sookie at home making breakfast for the house. Will stuck tight on her tail as she expertly worked her way through his kitchen; just as he followed Luke around almost every morning. Kaley sat calmly in her highchair, content with the slice of toast she was currently feasting on.

"Hey," Luke called as he took in the sight.

Startled, Sookie threw her arms up, coating one of the cabinets with pancake mix that narrowly missed Will.

"Daddy!" Will exclaimed, rushing to his father. Having not seen Luke the previous afternoon when Liz brought him home from camp, Will was happy to have him home.

"Hey little man," Luke greeted his son warmly, wrapping his arms around him and puling him into a giant bear hug.

"Da-ad!" he giggled as he tried to wriggle out of Luke's grasp, "I'm cooking!"

"Oh! Sorry," Luke exclaimed, pulling Will closer for just a second before releasing him. As Will ran back to his place in the kitchen, Luke looked expectantly at Sookie.

Having allowed the boys a moment, Sookie greeted Luke precariously now his attention was on her. "Uh, hey Luke!" giggling nervously, she gathered her thoughts for a moment before rushing out with, "Look, I know it's _your_ kitchen and I'm not allowed in here, but I just... well, I'm making breakfast and its about the only useful thing I can do right now, and I just thought that with everything-"

"Sookie," he cut her off, not the least bit perturbed to find her in his kitchen today, "I just wanted to know where Lorelai is."

Understanding dawned on her as she prepared more arguments for Luke, and instead pointed over her shoulder with the dripping spatula, telling him quietly, "In Rory's room."

Luke looked toward the closed door of the old servants quarters that led off the kitchen and nodded his understanding. "Oh," he mumbled, as he slowly made his way to the room.

Dropping a kiss on Kaley's head as he made his way passed, he suddenly felt nervous. Luke paused once he arrived at Rory's door and took a deep breath, willing himself for the strength to go in there, to see the room and to see Lorelai. He slowly pushed the door open and took a peek in the room.

He spotted Lorelai sitting on the end of Rory's bed. He paused to take in the image of her, sitting still, as calmly as he's ever seen her. She stared directly in front of her, at the shelves that housed Rory's childhood toys that she hadn't wanted to take to her New York apartment with her, and clutched Rory's stuffed chicken to her chest. She did not make a move when Luke walked into the room and over to her, and seemed to have not heard him when he called her name. He reached her and touched his hand softly to her arm, and paused when she again did not react.

He did not say anything else, he merely stood beside her, hoping for... something, anything. Tears, tantrums, stories, words of pain, words of love. She gave him nothing. Instead she sat there stoically, a thousand miles away in a land unheard of.

They stayed that way for minutes, Luke mesmerised by Lorelai's intense gaze at that shelf. As if determined not to scare her, he slowly sunk to a crouching position in front of her. He looked into her face, and called her name again, hoping to finally get her attention. He had to call once more before he managed to jolt her from her reverie. She only spared him a small glance, a moment of eye contact before her gaze drifted back to the shelf in front of her. She made no other movement.

He stayed there with her for over an hour, waiting for something from her. She continued as she was, sitting calmly and ignoring her husband's presence. He sat with her for as long as he could, before the guilt of leaving his children with Sookie over-rode his desire to sit with Lorelai.

He soon found that keeping himself busy helped distract him from his thoughts, and so Luke occupied his day with Will, Kaley and a myriad of chores around the house. It worked pretty well, until Liz, having been there for hours by that time, had enough and told him just what she thought. When she'd snap and tell him to stop fussing over dust bunnies, he'd check on Lorelai in Rory's room for mere moments before coming back to his babies.

Lorelai did not emerge from Rory's room the whole day. When Luke finally took the kids upstairs to put them to bed, she transferred herself from Rory's bed to hers, and was asleep by the time Luke crawled in behind her. As Luke lay awake that night, he noted that he spent the whole day without hearing her voice, seeing her move, or even really seeing her conscious. She was physically there, in his arms, but she wasn't there at all.

-XooooX-

The following days went by in a blur. The house was full from morning to night with neighbours, to Luke's annoyance. Although them being there, willing to help and provide support was sweet and allowed him to try and be there for Lorelai, their constant presence was intruding on every aspect of their lives. Will and Kaley's routines became non-existent as they were indulged at every turn but deprived of the one person they cried for. Their mother had disappeared on them. She was not around during the daytime, and in her place was Patty, Babette, Sookie, Liz, Lulu or any other well-meaning neighbour. She only seemed to appear at bedtime, when she'd crawl onto Will's beds with both of them, and cuddle them until they went to sleep.

She barely slept. At first she tried, but she'd wake up in the middle of the night, confused by where she was and the dream she'd woken from, only to realise it hadn't been a dream after all. These moments were becoming more than she could bear. More than she could begin to explain away. Luke didn't sleep. He was beyond exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but instead remained conscious, holding his wife closely as if trying to dull the pain. He was able, however, to wake her when her dreams overtook her by staying awake.

No-one was sure what day was what, the whole town seemingly going into lockdown as the mourning overtook them. The only person operating was Emily Gilmore. Aware that her daughter would be unable to deal with any formalities herself, she took it upon herself to organise a Memorial Service. Obviously there was no body the bury or cremate, but it was only logical that some sort of tribute needed to take place. And after a short discussion with Luke and a long one with Taylor Doose, a service was planned soon after _the incident_.

And so, Rory Gilmore: small town sweetheart, budding reporter, was to be remembered.


	3. Acceptance? What

**Hi all! And another chapter makes it's appearance!**

**I wanted to thank you all for the great reviews. Really, they keep me going and put a great smile on my face!**

**Anyway, enjoy this next installment, hopefully a tear-jerker! Love. xoxo**

3. Acceptance? What's That?

As the days continued, they fell into a sort-of routine. Lorelai would awaken in the early hours and spend the day in Rory's room; on the bed, on the armchair, one day on the floor in the corner. Luke would want to spend every second with her; every second with the kids; every second away from it all. Instead, he got to patiently sit with her for small moments throughout the day, he got to watch his fathering duties be taken over by well-meaning neighbours, and never had an escape for himself. A lot of his time was filled with begging Lorelai to actually eat something, trying to reason with two screaming children and consuming feelings of guilt.

The burden had fallen, as far as he was concerned, solely on Luke's shoulders. He soon forgot that the town was pulling together and providing him with support. He instead felt like they were intruding on his life, in his family's life. He got increasingly frustrated with the presence of so many people grouping in his home, hoarding together in his living room, that three days later he finally snapped. He sent everyone home, demanded that they leave him and Lorelai alone, and the place cleared out. He actually managed to sit with Will and Kaley for a couple of hours before he was rudely intruded on by Liz shortly after he had put them down for a nap.

"I told everyone to stay away. To leave us alone." he growled at Liz.

"I know you did. But if you think for one second that I'm going to listen to you and leave, you're obviously mistaken," she told him sternly.

"Liz-" he started, preparing another rant in his head.

Before he could continue, though, she cut him off. "Look, I know you want some peace, you want to take care of your family and for everyone to _butt the hell out_," she started with a slight smile, "But you can't do it on your own, Luke. You have two kids under four that need constant attention, Lorelai needs you to be with her right now, and _you_ need to be looked after too. Now listen-" she continued, holding her hand up, when she saw him trying to interrupt, "I'm your sister. Our whole lives you've looked after me and taken care of everything when I screwed up. Let me take care of you. Or, well, at least help. Let me be there for you for once, Luke.

"This whole situation... well, none of us were prepared. Rory... well, it's hard. Hard for Lorelai, but I know its hard on you too. You have to be strong. You need to be together and keep things going, you don't even get to sit down and let it all sink in. You don't even get a chance to mourn, to kick and scream at the world, because you need to be Luke Danes, the man who looks after everyone else.

"I'm telling you now, the only person you need to look after right now is Lorelai. Let me be the person who looks after you while you look after her. Please, Luke," she pleaded with him.

They sat quietly for a minute, as he absorbed all she said and swallowed it back down. He didn't need anyone. He could handle it, he knew he could. When he turned from her, she placed her hand on his arm and softly said, "Luke,"

Closing his eyes, he swallowed deeply. "I don't need it, Liz," he murmured, "I appreciate it. I really do, but I don't need you to look after me. I don't need anyone to look after me. All I need is for Rory to walk through that door. All I need is to be able to recognise my wife, for her to be Lorelai again. I need this nightmare to end. I just..." he shut his eyes tightly, willing himself to keep it under control, "I need them. Lorelai and Rory were everything to me for so long, and now I've lost them both. Rory was beautiful and amazing and this should not have happened. The world was at her feet and now, what? She's gone, and Lorelai's gone with her! Losing Rory... it's gonna kill her. How can she come out of this? How do I pull her out of it? And what about Will and Kaley? They need her as much as I need her! I just... I've lost both of them."

Liz held his hand, trying to give him any comfort he'd take. Minutes later, Luke began to talk in a much quieter tone than he had been worked up to before, "Lorelai hasn't said a word."

"What?"

"Not a word. She's shut herself down completely. She whispers to the kids when they are asleep, but that's it. She won't let me comfort her. She's oblivious to my presence most of the time, and curls away from me at night. She's gone, Liz. When I looked into her eyes this morning, she was dead. I got nothing from them, and it scared me."

"Hence the rage at poor Patty and Kirk." she nodded with understanding.

"I guess. I don't know. She'll come out of this won't she? I mean, I know I just want to crawl into a ball and hide from the world... I can't begin to imagine what she's feeling. The woman broke down when Rory left for the damn election campaign trail. Now it's like she's gone. She's not even there, Liz. I can't do it. I can't raise them by myself, they need her, they need their mother. It's not fair. None of this is fair."

"This is beyond unfair, honey. But it is the reality, and if you've taught me anything, it's that we need to face the reality, right? Well, its not even been a week. Lorelai's still in shock. You've given her that luxury, giving her the time she needs to face it. It's not going to be like this forever. She'll come around, and she'll come back eventually. You just need to be patient. You haven't lost them both, Lorelai will be back."

"I've never wanted you to be more right in my life," Luke told her with a smirk, wishing he could believe her.

"Oh, I'm always right about these things, big brother. You know I am."

"Hmm... I _do_ know. And that's what worries me."

"Ha! We have a comedian in the house, ladies and gentlemen!" she exclaimed brightly. "I'm here, Luke. Even if you just need a chat. But I'd rather the babysitting duty," she added with a wink, "Those kids are adorable."

"They're spoiled rotten," he grumbled.

"Well, your their daddy," she giggled, leaning into her brother joyfully. It was moments like this, where she was able to actually do something for her big brother, that she cherished. Pulling him out of himself, helping distract him for even a moment, was everything she was aiming for. Sadly, she thought, she could remember the few times she'd been there for him, but he was there countless times for her. She was determined, she'd be _his_ rock now.

-XooooX-

The morning of the memorial service arrived. Breaking her routine from the last few days, Lorelai quietly showered and dressed. She sat studiously at the vanity in their bedroom when Luke walked in, expecting her to still be in bed. He paused in the doorway, watching her stare herself down as she slowly applied rouge to her cheeks with the ease of experience. She was calm, Luke noted, but still vacant. Her gaze, though trained on her own reflection, was empty.

He walked to her and, running a hand down her arm asked her, "You ready?"

She inhaled deeply, her whole body shaking, and turned her head to meet his gaze. Closing her eyes tightly, she shook it off and willed herself to find the strength. She stood and met his gaze once again and simply stated the truth, "No,"

He studied her for a moment and moved his hand up the grasp her upper arm and thought of the words. Before he could get them out, she interrupted him, tearing the words from deep within, "I don't understand. I don't get how you can just accept this, Luke."

"Lorelai," he all but whispered.

"No," she said, fighting for the words to flow and her composure to stay intact, "You're just willing to accept that this is real. That she's gone. But we haven't seen her. She was happy and healthy and walking towards the terminal weeks ago. She was whole, and... Rory. But now she's what? Just nothing? How can you just accept that?" she searched his eyes, pleading for him to understand. If Luke would hear her, he could fix it. He could help her fix it.

He studied her for a moment, purposefully ignoring the jump of his heart at hearing her voice, and the dull ache at the the pain that filled the sound. "It's not that simple, Lorelai. I don't want this to be real anymore than you do, but denying it, fighting it is wrong too. It's happened now, and I have to take it and deal with it or else we'd all be in one big mess. They know what they're talking about, Lorelai. These people see these situations everyday and when they say there's no hope, I have to believe them."

Lorelai looked up at him, tears finally filling her eyes, "I should feel it. I should feel something. If she was gone, I'd know, right? What the hell's the point of having a relationship like ours if I can't even tell when something's wrong with her!"

"What do you feel?" he asked her timidly.

"Nothing. Sick... Nothing," she shook her head and tried to formulate her feelings. "Sick on the stomach, but nothing for her. When she was little, I'd get this feeling that something wasn't quite right." she turned away from him, suddenly unable to face him, "I don't feel her at all. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just nothing."

He pulled her to him and dropped a kiss to her forehead, holding her as tightly as he dared.

"I can't do it," she said into his chest, breaking the minutes of silence that had passed between them, "I'm not going. I'm not giving up on her, Luke. If I go, I have to say goodbye. She's not gone. She's just..."

"Lorelai,"

"I can't explain it, Luke!" she pulled away from him and roughly swiped at her eyes, "Damn it!" taking a deep breath, she continued slowly, "It's not right, doing this. I won't give up on her. I can't."

His tone hardened and he spoke to her in a stern whisper, afraid of what effect his words might have. Afraid of what her stubborness would do to her. "We have to, Lorelai. I don't want this to sound harsh or cold, but she's gone. Rory won't be coming back. She's not coming home, and the longer it takes for you to accept that the harder it's going to be. I loved her too. Hell, most days I liked her more than you," he added with a small smirk, hoping to add something of their normal banter to it, "She was my daughter too. This is tearing me apart, and I would prefer to do anything else in this world than to have to live today, and that includes running butt-naked through Patty's studio. But we have to do this. She deserves this and we deserve a chance to say goodbye. She deserves to be remembered properly, to keep her alive in this goddamn town."

He was thankful that she'd slumped against him by then, because it was much easier to bury his head in her hair and wrap his arms tightly around her than for him to face her and see the effect of what he'd said.

"You know we need to do this," he murmured into her hair, "We have to go. And I'll be right here, I promise. Right next to you the whole time. I'm right here, Lorelai."

They stood together for eternity, she clutched to him with all her strength and breathed him in with her last breath.

-XooooX-

The service, after much negotiation between Emily and Luke, was held in the town square. Taylor pulled any and all strings on the laws and by-laws written in order to pull it off and attach a plaque to the biggest tree in the square. It was under this tree that a young Rory Gilmore spent many afternoons reading before the night fell and sent her inside to _Luke's _or home.

They arrived late, the majority of Stars Hollow residents milling mindlessly by the orderly lawn chairs lined up before the tree. Emily had worked her magic here. Having put all her time and energy into the preparations, she had ensured that Rory Gilmore's memorial service was somewhat of an event. It was nice and simple, yet a touch of elegance; everything Rory was. Emily could not help herself, bringing a touch of society to meek Stars Hollow: she needed to give her granddaughter everything she deserved and she'd already been too lenient with most of the arrangements.

When Luke pulled the car into the square, all Lorelai was able to take notice of was that it had been taken over by sunflowers. Emily had taken it upon herself to decorate the whole town with the enormous, over-bearing flora, and it seemed she had seen no limits. For a second, a tiny millisecond, Lorelai's heart fluttered and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Just as quickly as it came, it was gone again and Luke was at her door, helping her down, and leading her towards the milling people.

They stopped on their way over as they were approached by Emily and Richard, while the remainder of the town were careful to avert their gazes. Shocking Lorelai, Christopher arrived in front of her parents, his determined gaze locked on Lorelai.

"Lor-" he started, the planned speech slipping from his head as he laid his eyes on her. She looked at him for a long moment. Not a seeking gaze, or a questioning look, or even a pained expression. He searched her gaze, not entirely sure of what he'd been looking for, but found nothing. Her gaze was empty, expressionless.

Luke stood beside her, gripping her arm tightly and holding her there. As Christopher opened his mouth to say something, Lorelai tore her gaze from his and, pulling away from Luke also, brushed passed her child's father as if she had never met him before. For a moment, Christopher looked to Luke for an explanation, but he was too concerned with catching up with his wife as she was approached by the somewhat weary elder Gilmore's.

Christopher turned and watched as they walked away, seeing Luke tentatively place his hand on Lorelai's back before running it down her arm, and watching as she pulled his hand into hers, gripping it tightly as they were greeted by her parents. He rubbed his hand tiredly over his neck and sighed, and then slowly made his way to the rows of seats that were slowly being filled beyond capacity.

The ceremony itself was beautiful. The reverend gave a unique service for the daughter they all loved; incorporating a traditional upstanding memorial making both Mrs Kim and Emily happy, while adding a youthful contemporary expression for Lorelai's expense that went unnoticed by her.

After that morning's conversation, Lorelai had reverted back inside herself. With a weary numbness she sat in silence throughout the service, only half conscious of herself and her surroundings. Luke sat on one side of her, holding her hand tightly in his, for his own comfort as much as hers; and Richard sat on the other, grasping Emily's dainty hand in his own.

Usually so calm and collected, the morning was tough on Emily. Mid-way during Richard's eulogy, the whole of her was shaken by the sobs which she restrained. She fought her tears as long as she could, but at times it was beyond her strength and they burst from her, pouring down her cheeks and falling on her dress. As Richard continued his speech, his cousin Marylin pulled closer in her seat to Emily to comfort her. Before his eulogy had ended, howling cries were added to Emily's, coming from many of the Hollow matriarchs. Patty, Babette, Sookie, Liz and even Kirk's cries raised to the skies, making it hard for Richard to continue. Looking amongst the crowd when he finished, Richard found it hard to not release the emotions he'd fought so hard to keep at bay since he'd found strength in his wife in recent days, derailing his own torn emotions.

Later, when the crowd had dispersed to the wake, Emily and Richard sat together on the lawn benches. He held her to his chest as she let the great sobs out, his face buried in her hair, as they said goodbye to their granddaughter long before they were prepared.

-XooooX-

The mourners converged on the lawn by the lake, on what was once the property of the Independence Inn. Emily had left the wake for Mia to organise, per the woman's request, and was a beautiful arrangement, Stars Hollow style. Tables had been erected on the flat of a rise, some fifty feet from the lake. There was a large spread of gourmet food a la Sookie, and an abundance of nature. It seemed that both Emily and Mia had thought an emphasis on flowers and life would best mark Rory's sudden passing.

It wasn't a Stars Hollow event. While there was easily a hundred people there, college friends and colleagues amongst the town residents, the wake was eerily quiet. Everyone spoke in hushed tones, and while the cries that domineered the service had all but stopped, there were no funny stories or remembrances to create a lighter atmosphere. People sat close together and spoke in whispers, too aware of the grief those closest to her were currently experiencing, and themselves too still feeling the shock of it all.

Luke, standing with his sister and nephew, watched as Lorelai slowly walked away from Mia and April, whom she'd been sitting with, and the fellow mourners; and headed down toward the lake. Not taking notice of the conversation Liz and Jess kept up for his benefit, he kept a trained eye on her as she strolled down, closer and closer to the edge. He watched as she paused feet from the edge and wrapped her arms around herself, and, disengaging himself from his sister, he made his way down towards her.

She stared blankly across the lake and did not acknowledge him when she felt him beside her. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, and she continued looking ahead. Pressing his forehead to the side of hers, he begged in a whisper, "Tell me, Lorelai. Please, just say something; let it out."

She momentarily pressed herself into his comforting embrace before she pulled herself out of it completely. Taking a couple of steps away from him, she took deep, life-giving breaths and drew her fingers in to tight fists. She felt it. The pain, the anger, the hurt completely overwhelmed her. Too many emotions were built up inside of her and she didn't have anymore room for them. She needed, if only for a few moments, to escape into freedom, into the open, out of the sorrows that imprisoned her, to once again feel a sort of liberation. Before either of them were aware, she felt it erupt from her and one long, piercing scream ripped at the air thick with mourning. Lorelai let it out. She shrieked and howled until she had no breath left in her, and then collapsed in a heap into Luke's waiting arms. He caught her as she slumped against him, and they dropped to the ground together. He held her to him as great sobs wracked her body. She clung to him as he buried his face in her hair and let the tears finally fall with hers.

Back up the hill, talking ceased the second a shrill scream pierced through the air. Everyone paused as they heard Lorelai finally let go, as they heard the utter pain as it tore through her. Emily dropped heavily into the closest chair as she let what Lorelai was finally feeling ripple through her. Richard grasped the back of Emily's chair, afraid that if he didn't hold on with his life he would be unable to remain standing. Patty and Lulu both burst into another sudden round of tears. Anyone who was there could swear it sounded like Lorelai was literally, not figuratively, having her heart ripped right out of her chest.

The fellow mourners took a moment to glance in the direction of the lake, and found Luke and Lorelai in a pile on the ground. They were so wrapped together as they held on that it was hard to tell which limb was whose.

She had grown much quieter now, they could not hear her sobs from where they were, but the screech still rung in all their ears.

_tbc_


	4. Surviving

**Hi all! Yes, it is back! I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, but this chapter has given me no end of trouble. I ended up scrapping about three versions, and now it's finally done. I hope it makes you happy, its kinda what you've all been asking for, but not really to the extent I'd hoped. Well, here is chapter four: enjoy!**

4. Surviving

My memory of the actual incident is a blur. I remember voices yelling. People scurrying. Loud, boisterous howling of bombs exploding next to me. A smoke-filled haze that I couldn't see through. I remember things like a movie-clip reel, flashes of memory that cannot be connected, aspects of other people's lives captured for my own viewing pleasure. It is surreal. Reel life, not real life.

Somehow I am disconnected from it all. From that day, and many days following. My therapist says this is normal, I was suffering from shock at the time and I have experienced so much since, that moments can be lost in translation. Its not that I don't understand what I'm seeing though, I have told her, I understand perfectly. But I understand from an abstract perspective. I am a third-person onlooker, having minimal knowledge and absolutely no feelings towards the situation.

What I do remember is sitting in a large army tent with a dozen or so people, in the hot, dusty day in Israel. I can not say where exactly we were, I myself do not know. I was with a group of humanitarian workers that had forced themselves further than they had been allowed, taking themselves and me with them into a war-zone in the hopes of doing something for the citizens of Israel. The people of this torn nation have been subjected to war and political horrors all their mostly young lives, something this group I was reporting on put forth their lives to stop. They wanted to draw our attention to the plight of these people, make us hate all contributing factors. This is what they were fighting for. The right of freedom for all people. All these people I worked with, lived with, interviewed and made friends with, they all gave their lives for this cause. This is something that still amazes me to this day, after everything I've seen and everything I now know, I will still not forget the faces of those people who believed they could change the world. Who worked for a common goal, one stronger than anything most people have ever known.

But I have gotten off track, feeding my desires to spread their message the way I should have then. The way I wanted to if things had turned out differently. If they hadn't been confused for soldiers instead of the young, hopeful, pacifists they were, and had been spared. But life does not always go as planned, I have learned that life is rarely fair in places like the Middle East. It was not fair that Bruce, Millie, Chloe, Hayden, Joanna or Emery had to pass the way they did, had to die amid such pain and terror. It is not fair that Bernie and I had to watch them go in such a manner, and continue breathing and living through that same experience everyday until we came home. None of it was fair, right, or even worth the suffering in the end for either side.

Instead we now have to live each day with the past hanging over our heads like a distress warning, not being able to move forward. One step forward and two steps back, for the most part. I can't breathe life into my lungs without sorrow clouding through my entire body. I can't continue when I know no justice can be found for what we have all gone through, for myself, Bernie or Tristan. The best I can do is tell my story, pass it out and hope that someone reads it, that someone can experience it with me.

-XooooX-

The days meshed together as Lorelai remained in bed following the memorial service. Since that day, she no longer trudged down the stairs every morning and back up at night. She did not move from her own bedroom, staying in the bed, back turned towards the door in an attempt to ward off visitors. She could not find a comfort in anything, and at numerous moments throughout each and every day, found it hard and fairly facetious to even draw breath.

Weeks began to pass and the days continued on the same. Lorelai stayed in bed, ignoring Luke and everyone around her. Her head lay buried under pillows and blankets, no comfort was drawn from her husband or their babies. Since her outburst at the memorial service, Lorelai had drawn back into herself, not speaking and not caring about the life around her. The Danes household lived one day to the next, taking it as it came, and waiting for some form of order to emerge.

-

"How is she?" April asked her father as he walked into the kitchen one morning.

"Same," he gruffly answered, walking passed her and Kaley, whom April was settling in her high chair for her breakfast, and depositing a tray of untouched food on the kitchen counter.

"Oh," April responded with a slight nod of understanding, holding Kaley firmly down, the straps she was in the process of clicking into place forgotten as she studied Luke's movements around the kitchen. He had his back turned to her, nervously fidgeting with anything within reach as he had become accustomed. Moving skilfully around his kitchen, he collected the plates and bowls from breakfast, deposited them in the sink and began to clean them.

April was shocked from her trance-like study of Luke by a dissatisfied squawk from her hungry sister. Shaking her head to rid the thoughts that would not leave, she turned back to Kaley muttering, "Yeah, yeah, keep your socks on. You'll get your food..." and continued tying Kaley into her chair. April moved closer to Luke in her quest for the food she'd prepared for her sister and asked him, "It's okay to give her eggs, isn't it? Dad?" she called when she realised he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention.

"Sorry. What?"

She studied him for a moment as the confusion mounted in his expression.

"April?" he prompted when she didn't continue as expected.

"Oh, um, I was just making sure she can eat eggs. You hear all those scare stories about what babies can and can't eat, and I don't really know where eggs fall on that list. I mean, I made some for Will and me and thought there was plenty for her, but now I think about-" interrupted by another squawk, April chanced a glance at Kaley, muttering to herself while her attention held on Luke and April, and finished, "um, now I think about it, I'm not so sure. I can't remember what Will was eating at her age, and well, it was just a question, if you knew, but she's big right? She'd probably be fine," she lamely finished as she picked up the plastic bowl and spoon to give to her sister.

She suddenly felt very awkward discussing this with Luke, here. Not that this was really that different from any time she'd stayed in Stars Hollow with her dad. But it was so different. _It should be like it was before_, April thought bitterly. Where Lorelai would be here in the kitchen discussing Kaley's feeding with Luke.

Luke, however, was oblivious to his daughter's rambling mind. He instead considered April's question, even after Kaley had her hands in the bowl of eggs, and after a moment of thought said with a slight nod, "The eggs will be fine. Can't be too bad if we give 'em to the damn dog."

Their attention was stolen by Kaley for a moment as her rambling became more clear, and they paused to hear her say, "Mumm mum mum mum..." repeated over.

Glancing back at Luke, she held his gaze for a moment before he turned back to his task at hand, and then she found something else to occupy her time while Kaley ate.

-XooooX-

Time was simply impossible to measure. We were held in a dark, dark room in the middle of some building. There were no windows, just a small barred hole for the little food shoved through the door. There was no air. The conditions we lived in are impossible to explain, even for me. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before, in a movie, as described in a book, or even my imagination. And so I will not even attempt it. I will say that the conditions were appalling. The room was six and a half feet by twelve with a low ceiling. Tristan, not a tall man by any standards, average we'll say, had to stoop slightly.

The smell is something I'll never be able to forget. The rank, moist smell of mould mixed with human sweat, blood and excretion. I know now to think myself lucky that we were lucky enough to have a room that had a most-of-the-time working toilet. That situation could have been much worse, a bucket for the corner or even just a corner for bodily business were both possibilities. And we had a toilet. One that did flush on occasion. But the smell of that toilet. It was dirty and mouldy and would unleash all smells made on it by about four-fold for days on end. Maybe that same smell that was there when I entered was the one there when I left. I don't know. But I am grateful that the lack of nourishment and constant audience made trips to that toilet few and far between. It was there for desperate situations.

The floor was cement. Had we been on the ground floor, I'm convinced it would have been dirt. Dirt would have been better. The ground was hard and always cold. It had as much dirt as the real ground would have, and at least an earthen floor would have reminded me, reminded us that there was a world out there, behind it all. That the room and building and concrete were not the only life still in existence. But we had concrete. Hard, hard floor that hurt to sit on, to stand on, to lay on. We could not lay stretched out, Bernie and I could barely stand straight, and Tristan could not even try. We sat at the far end of the room, as far from that toilet and door we could get, and felt time slowly consume us.

The company I held made days bearable. Tristan did not speak much. As a Lieutenant in the army at twenty-seven, he had focused almost solely on his career from his acceptance into the military seven years earlier. In this time, he'd learned to harden himself, he stood apart from us and focused his mind on something else, something he did not share with me. He rarely spoke, he seemed to watch and observe Bernie and I, and also the guards outside our room when we could hear them. The man Tristan, the one I lived with during that time, was a far cry from the boy I had once known. He was just, unrecognisable to me. He was a completely different person to me.

Bernie kept me sane. An older man, slightly rounded in the middle with a large beard grown before we were captured, probably because he could not care to shave it, was my whole being for a long time. We would talk about books and movies, music and people. He would talk and talk, just to fill the noise. Just to keep out the quiet. His complete disdain for silence I know drove Tristan up a wall, but it seemed to calm me. I grew up with a person who made it her mission in life to keep the entertainment flowing, who hated the silence around her as much as Bernie did, and he seemed to bring me comfort from that. I could see a part of my mother in him. His soul touched me, if you believe in that kind of thing, in the same way that hers does. He was my connection to life, to wanting to live, and to looking towards the future. I learned a lot from Bernie, the man who you could not even scare quiet, and I know that even now, having not seen him for so long, I still carry him with me.

-XooooX-

April left with Will and Kaley for a couple of hours, and Luke sighed with relief when the front door closed behind them. Having his two young children to focus on was a very welcome distraction for the most part, but they were still at that young age where they demanded constant attention. Having April home for the rest of the summer at least, and Liz constantly around, was just a great deal of support he was grateful to have. His life had flipped upside-down a week ago, _had it only been a week?_, and without his yin, without Lorelai, he was not sure he could handle it.

His week had passed in a fuzzy haze, trying to get through the days as they came, and sending silent prayers up to a lord he wasn't even sure he believed in, waiting for a change. Waiting and hoping that his Lorelai would come back, would emerge from the blankets that held her captive. He knew, though, that for now, Lorelai held the blankets down over herself. Like a small child trying to make the monsters that have invaded her dreams disappear.

Glancing one last time around the kitchen as he headed upstairs with a lunch tray that would not be touched, his eyes strayed on the door on the far wall. His stomach sunk a little as he gazed at it, wanting for a moment to close his heart, the same way that that door to Rory's room remained firmly closed.

_tbc_


	5. As Time Goes By

**Hi all! Yes, it is back. I'm sorry for the delay in the update - I have excuses but I won't bother boring you with them. Life and all. I have discovered that I'm a really crappy updater though. I hope you all have patience to stick this one out. Love! xx**

The days and weeks flew by in a moment, crept by in an eternity. Lorelai found it impossible to distinguish how much time had actually passed since all this had started, be it weeks or even months. Something as simple and monotonous as breathing became a daily fight. She would lay in bed every morning listing to herself any and every reason to continue drawing breath.

She had a great life. The magical life she'd dreamed of for so many years had finally become her reality. They had been happy, her and Luke, sharing the life they had both wanted so much with someone they loved as fiercely as they did each other. Of course they did not have a perfect life (who does when both parties of the relationship are so imperfect?), but it was the happy one they wanted. She had her dream guy, a dream house, with two beautiful young children that made each day lively and crazy. Not only was her world perfect, but so was the life of her eldest baby. Her best friend.

And now her perfect world had come crashing down over her shoulders.

So here she sat in the armchair of her still new, big, bedroom, oblivious to the leaves changing colour outside the window she was gazing through. She had become a shadow of the Lorelai Gilmore of past years. Her skin was pale and tingeing on grey, her hair was lank and untamed, her frame was slighter than could ever be considered healthy, and her delicate, once joyful face, had aged five years in less months. Taking care of herself was simply something she forgot to do these days, her entire thoughts consumed by images and memories of her eldest daughter in the few moments that the pain and nightmares subsided.

-XooooX-

"Are you all set?" Luke asked April as he walked into her attic bedroom three weeks after the memorial.

Glancing in his direction, April nodded slightly and answered, "I have everything packed that I need." Turning back to her task, she added the last folded T-shirt in her hand to the suitcase situated on her bed and zipped it up. Keeping her eyes trained on her suitcase, she said, "You know, I don't have to go."

"April..." Luke warned.

"No, really, I don't. School doesn't start for two weeks, I can stay until then."

"No you can't, kid. This is your last summer before college. You need to spend some time with your mom before you come back up North. You want to spend time with her." He reminded.

"I do, but this just seems more important," April implored, "I just... don't want to leave when everything's like this. I don't want to leave you right now... it seems like too much."

Sighing, Luke took a moment to think, and sat on her bed next to her case and looked at her with begging eyes, "I'm gonna be fine. You know you're not really leaving me alone, right? Your aunt Liz and TJ live in town, Jess is still hanging around for probably the same reason that you're trying to, and we have a whole extended family at every turn. I can take care of the kids and Lorelai fine, and I'm sure all of them will try their hardest to take care of me. You should go, you need to focus on your life and this big step you're taking, I just, I really want you to experience this and not get too bogged down in all this. We can't all sink."

"Dad," April all but whispered.

"I promise we'll be okay. The next two weeks are going to make no real difference in what's going on here. You know we're just trying to make it through the days, and it will take time before that will change. I want you to be here, but I want you to get ready for school too. It's an exciting thing you're getting ready for. And you should be there, getting sorted and spending time with your mom. You know we expect you to visit here lots once you've moved back north, I don't need you getting sick of us too soon." he added the last part with a slight smirk, a shadow of the one he used to don.

April gave him a small shrug of acceptance and said only, "I still don't like it."

"I know."

"And I will visit. Lots. Just call me any time and I'll be here," pausing, she took in his appearance properly for the first time that day and added, "MIT is just a quick train ride away anyways."

He gave her a small smile, one that seemed to dominate his expression whenever any of his kids were around, and pulled her into a big hug. "I don't want you to worry about me, okay? I'm the dad, I'm supposed to worry about you going off on your own soon, meeting stoners and frat boys out in the big bad world."

"Well, I guess we'll both be okay, then." she whispered in his ear.

-XooooX-

April soon left. So did Jess, Mia and Liz (off to her first Renaissance fair in years). Life suddenly started moving forward, leaving the Danes house behind in its wake.

Luke started back at work almost as soon as his support system left him. Without Luke realising it, Jess had managed to keep his diner open and afloat in his absence. The thought of his nephew coming here, to a place he hated so much, in order to take care of _him_ for a change, was something Luke was embarrassed about. He had every reason not to be. Every reason to be the one to be taken care of for once. But it was not in the make-up of Luke Danes to be taken care of. Least of all by his wayward sister and troubled nephew.

Sighing to himself as he wiped over the counter the first morning shift he'd taken since _that day_, his thoughts finally drifted from the main events. He thought about his nephew. How much he'd grown since he'd lived here with Luke. Jess was now a man, he had his life together and was actually doing really well for himself. Seeing Jess as he was now made Luke smile with pride at all he'd accomplished; and accomplished by himself!

Thinking of Jess made him think of his sister: who she had been throughout her son's childhood, and who she had become when she let herself finally be taken care of. TJ was good to Liz, and it was all Luke could do but wonder how either of them not only got out of that life, had managed to pick themselves up and reach for _something_. The image of a drugged-out Liz after one of her husbands left, with a cowering five-year-old Jess under the table in the bare apartment sprung to his mind, ready to be shaken quickly from it. Memories like that still hurt, and it was all Luke could do. Shake them out. Shake off every memory from that year of his life. Liz, Jess, his dad...

Life moves on. Life has moved on.

How long has it been since _that day_? Weeks? At least. Luke couldn't help himself. Before he realised where his mind had wandered, he was thinking about it. About _it_.

Slamming his hand down on the counter, he turned on his heel and stormed into the kitchen to set up for the day.

-XooooX-

The weeks turned in to a month. Then two. Then three.

Lorelai stayed in their bedroom most of the time. She took no comfort from anyone or anything around her. Her days were a monotonous blur: wake up, struggle through the hours in bed, on the couch, in April's attic bedroom where she could hide from everyone in the house under the guise of cleaning and organising items to send to her. She rarely went down stairs. She would spend the dark hours in William or Kaley's bedroom and watch them sleep. Rory's bedroom, once servants quarters in their new large house, sat lonely and untouched, the door next to the kitchen firmly closed in place. Lorelai did not even enter the kitchen nowadays. Too close. Thoughts would spring up.

Most days she lay by herself, unable to even crawl out of bed. On the days an unimaginable sadness took over and strangled her, she would hide deep in the recesses of her bed. Under the covers, it was easier for Lorelai to convince herself that the nightmare she was living was just that: a nightmare. She could hide from the world, not confirming the pain her heart was screaming, because she knew it was true. Rory had been her heart and her whole life for more than twenty years. In that time they had been so much, shared so much; and now they didn't even share the same world. She was gone. Her baby, as unbelievably incredulous as the idea made her feel, was not coming home.

And it was this reality that Lorelai hid herself from more than any other in her whole existence.

-XooooX-

The days meshed together. They were all the same, no real milestones occurred to judge time, and so we sat and waited. Waited for what, we didn't know. Bernie would talk constantly all day, I would listen and occasionally join in, and Tristan would sulk in the shadows. The days were long. Or rather, the whole time was one enormously long day. Time was nothing to us, meant nothing.

Thankfully, we were never drowned in complete silence. Bernie, consciously or not, made sure we never had to suffer through that maddening, ghostly silence. In his waking hours we were bombarded by his incessant chatter, and while he slumbered his deep snores echoed between the walls in the small room. In this way, Bernie kept us sane. He never allowed me a chance to slip inside my head and think too hard about our situation.

One day, not long after our capture, remains plastered to my mind. We had been alone for days, had not seen another soul since I woke up. This was the first day another human being, one of _them_, came into our little room. The actual arrival and visit of the soldier (or more likely errand boy) was nothing to really write home about. He was a young guy, maybe seventeen at the oldest, and he merely placed a tray of, well, I guess what they deemed food, and a bucket of water in the doorway. He stood framed in the doorway for a moment, sneered at all of us in turn, before disappearing back out the door. This whole scene took place in maybe a total of five seconds. I held my breathe and felt an eternity slip past.

What I remember about that day is the effect it had on the three of us. Bernie, who had been sitting next to me, across from the doorway, seemed stunned by the boy's sudden appearance. I felt his heart rate speed astronomically, his arm pressed to mine, as I felt mine slow. His presence made me chill and stiffen, to cower into myself. Bernie, however, was the complete opposite. Next to me he started to shake. He was shaking so violently that I was suddenly concerned he was fitting. What would we do if that happened? What could we do? Bernie, such a wonderful man, showed such a brave disinterested face at times. But when faced directly with his fears, his captors, he went to pieces. In the times when we would receive visits, Bernie was no comfort.

Tristan was strong and silent that day. Well, he was everyday. But that particular episode, Tristan sat against the wall opposite the excuse for a toilet – next to our wall and the wall the door was on. From the moment the door opened, he glared in that direction, sneering back at the boy in turn. He was strong and silent. Tough and calm. Once the boy had left, I could see the anger boiling in him. I guess to just sit and watch someone walk into the room, leaving the door open, and just sit there, was too much for him.

Nobody talked for hours after this. None of us made a move for the food or water, hungry and parched though we were. We sat as we were and stared at the door. Bernie continued to breathe heavily in my ear, the shaking did not get any better for a long time. Tristan, though he had not said much in the days we'd spent together, did not say a single word for days after this moment. He sulked in his little corner, barely moving, glaring even at myself and Bernie until the door opened the next time.

_tbc_


	6. Moving Forward Or Staying Behind

**Hi everyone who has managed to stick with this story!**

**I know I have been awful with updates, and I apologise profusely for it.**

**Just a quick note on the text, I'm an Aussie, so there will be some spelling mistakes for my American readers, but chances are they're meant to be spelt that way. Possibly there could be a few errors, because I don't have a beta, but I have a spell-checker, and I'm a relatively good speller too. So, yeah.**

**Also, quickly, I have a few more chapters planned for this story, in my head. But I'm not sure if anyone's still reading. I'd love to know if you guys still find it interesting, and I'll continue on my path, or I'll try and wrap it up in the next chapter.**

**Well, enjoy!**

6. Moving Forward (Or Staying Behind)

I know that I was fairly lucky. Just look at any of the other stories of people that have been in similar situations at other points in history. I came out whole, in one piece. Physically, anyway. It could have been worse.

They could have done to me what they did to Tristan.

A month, maybe two months after we were captured, they came for him. Looking back on it now, with the time I've had to dwell on it, I know he was prepared. He had been waiting for them, and had spent everyday building his strength, clearing his head, training himself with quiet confidence to be strong and silent.

Tristan was a far cry from the boy I once knew at school. A long nine years in the military had managed to change him so dramatically that the only part of him I recognised was the short, dusty head of hair. He was no longer cheeky and arrogant, he no longer fought for my attention. He was moody and his jaw was seemingly wired shut. We could not draw him into conversation for any given time. He indulged me little. And Bernie even less.

And then they came for him. It was one normal day, a date I don't know and a day I will always remember. Tristan and I were sitting in companionable silence against the wall facing the toilet. I think it was about two months in. We had lost track of time very early on, but we started to measure time by my healing process, and I had mostly healed by that stage.

They walked in, three of them. He stood as soon as he heard them. They walked directly over to us, took Tristan by the arm and led him out. He went quietly, prepared for whatever he was about to face.

Bernie had been asleep at the other end of the room, but at the sound of the door had woken up and stared open-mouthed as Tristan walked out of the room, head held high.

The next couple of days, Bernie and I remained alone in that room, in near silence. Neither of us able to think of anything other than Tristan, neither of us able to voice our concerns.

-XooooX-

Luke was exhausted. It had been a long day at the diner. It had been the longest day he had put in in months. Since Will was born, really. The days where Luke would open and close the diner himself, and work all day no longer existed. Recently, Luke hadn't been in at all and Ceaser had been covering him everyday. And so Luke, feeling guilty, had given Ceaser the entire day off, working from open to close. And Luke was dead tired.

Luke put the last chair up onto a nearby table. With a yawn, he quickly swept and mopped the floor. Checking that everything was in order, Luke rushed out and towards his home as fast as the ridiculously slow speed limits would allow him. He wanted, needed to get home to his family. For a couple of hours now, he'd been burning for the desire to see his children, to check on his wife. It had seemed like such a simple concept when he organised it, letting Ceaser take a well-earned break. Luke just wasn't expecting himself to miss his sad, empty house as much as he did.

And truth be told, there was no life to his house anymore. He had two small children keeping him on his toes everyday, but Lorelai... well, how could his house feel like his house when she was bed-ridden? When all the life was gone from her, she had none left to add to the house. It had been seven weeks. Almost two months, and his house was still a death house. Whispered words between himself and Liz, Emily and Sookie were now the norm; all of them too scared to break the spell, to shock Lorelai from wherever she was.

Luke quietly let himself into the house, meeting a frazzled Liz in the living room. She was pressing a wet washer into a wailing Kaleys mouth as she strode back and forth in the room.

"Hey," she greeted her brother, "Where're all your teething rings? I looked everywhere in the kitchen and couldn't find them. The washer worked for a little while, but it's not anymore."

"Come here," Luke said softly as he reached out for his daughter, "Do you have a pain, baby?" he asked, placing a kiss on her tear-streaked cheeks.

"The teething rings?" Liz reminded him.

"Uh, I'm not sure," he answered, feeling her forehead, "Maybe in the toy box. Are you sure its teething? I thought all her teeth had come through."

This statement was answered by an extra-large wail from Kaley as she tried to bury herself into Luke's neck, fist jammed in her mouth.

"I think so," Liz answered her brother over Kaley's sobs, "Maybe you should take her to the doctor? It seems like teething, though. It was all the signs. And she's only gotten warm since she's been screaming."

"Daddy?" a little voice interrupted them. Luke turned to see his young son in his too-short pyjamas (Luke made a mental note to buy him a bigger size next chance he got), rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's wrong wif Kaley?"

"Hey, buddy," Luke whispered to him as he continued trying to shush the whimpering Kaley, "Did the crying wake you up?"

Will nodded tentatively, then said, "I didn't see you today."

"I know, I missed you too, buddy,"

Kaley continued to whimper in his arms, all the while Will stared up at him with what Luke was sure was betrayal.

Kaley continued to clutch at him, but before Luke could say anything else to Will, Liz shot back into the room declaring, "I found one! Had to give it a good wash, but I've got one!"

Luke hadn't even noticed she'd left the room, but was grateful when she handed him the ring, and Kaley gave up the flannel she had been gnawing on for it.

Giving her brother a quick glance, Liz turned to Will and said kindly to him, "How about we go back to bed, kiddo?" When Will turned his stare on her, she smiled and said, "I promise you can talk to daddy tomorrow. Remember, like I promised before? You've got to have a good sleep so you can play with him outside."

Will decidedly took her outstretched hand.

"Hey Will?"

The boy turned with wide eyes at his father's voice.

"Can you help me make breakfast tomorrow? I really think its time we spoiled our girls. I'd need your help with that."

Will's smile widened with Luke's and he nodded, before running to Luke and attacking his legs with a hug. "Night, daddy."

"Night, buddy." Luke bent and placed a kiss on top of his head, and Liz lead him out of the room.

As Kaley continued to clutch at him, her whimpers now muffled by the ring, Luke's thoughts were on his poor children. He had been trying to compensate for Lorelai's absence, and now both of them were suffering. He had to go back to work and life if they wanted to move on and, well, keep their house and kids fed. It was time to be practical. He couldn't do the full-time work _and_ play Mr Mum forever. This would have to end eventually.

Sighing gravely, Luke held his daughter ever closer and willed the dreadful thoughts that were creeping into his mind away.

-XooooX-

The next morning, Kaley continued to sulk and grumble, keeping Luke in a particularly foul mood. He thundered about the house all morning, waiting for Babette to arrive to babysit. Normally, or at least until today, he didn't mind that his friends and neighbours had all gotten together and worked out a schedule where one of them would always be on hand for Luke's summons at any time, day or night. In fact, to start with he'd been very grateful.

That was, until this mood had arrived, and resentment started bubbling inside him. Resentment towards the townsfolk for not allowing him to take care of his own family, resentment at himself for not being able to go two days at a time without the damn townsfolk, resentment at his children (or at least their age and incomprehension to why mummy no longer got out of bed), and mostly to Lorelai, for not being there. She alone was able to grieve and stop her life, while he couldn't. He'd loved Rory. She'd practically been his daughter, and yet he had not been able to grieve. He'd taken the news and had to move straight away: from holding Lorelai as the shock overtook, to going and dropping the bomb on Emily and Richard, to taking care of Lorelai and their children, to going back to work while he took care of Lorelai and their children.

At first, he'd been able to squeeze out a few tears late at night while she laid curled in his arms, sobbing into his chest. But that quickly followed with a stoney stoicism, when he'd crawl into bed too tired to even shut his brain down most times. She would curl into him, he'd wrap her in his arms, shush her for awhile, but he no longer allowed himself to lose himself in it. It drained him too much. Every other night Will would creep into their room with stories of monsters and wet sheets to change, and became too much to have his son stare in confusion at his parents, crying together in bed.

It was much easier to stay strong. Easier to keep it together, because it got harder to put himself back together. Because Lorelai needed him. Because Will and Kaley were too young to understand what was going on, and needed both of them.

Luke's mood was foul and abrasive, but surprisingly Will and Kaley were oblivious to it for the most part. Kaley was suffering in her own misery, and wanted to stay close to Luke. He decided to not bother with chores that morning, and spent the morning playing with the children in the living room. Will was getting really good with his alphabet, and was reading to Luke when Babette turned up eleven thirty.

"Hey Sugah!" Babette screeched when Luke opened the door and ushered her inside. "How are you? Where are the little dolls? How's Lorelai?"

Luke sighed, not in the mood for townies or questioning.

"The kids are in the living room," he told her, his information confirmed by a bellow from Kaley, having just noticed her father's absence from the room. "Kaley's teething and is a bit clingy today," he muttered, as he rushed through the door and back to her.

When he took a step into the room, his eyes went directly to the far corner, in which he'd left her. She had pulled herself up, and in seeing Luke enter the room, she took a few tentative steps into his arms.

Luke laughed, and the sound shocked the crying baby into silence in his arms.

"Did you just walk?" he asked her, "Did you just take a couple of steps?"

Her wide eyes stared at him in shock and confusion, but as he jiggled her and rained her with kisses and tickles, she giggled in spite of herself. It lasted just for a moment, before she was overcome by tears again, snuggling her head into Luke's neck.

"Oh my god, I saw it, Sugah," came Babbette's raspy voice from behind him. "I didn't get the camera up in time, but maybe you could get her to do it again? Lorelai would want to see it."

Luke had been about to answer her before she'd mentioned his wife. Lorelai was just upstairs, and here Babbette was talking about taking pictures of Kaley walking for her. Luke took a deep inhale of the beautiful baby smell she still produced, before handing her over to Babbette.

"Ceaser's already called me twice this morning asking me when I'm coming in. I'm just gonna go see Lorelai before I go."

Babbette brushed the tear tracks on Kaley's cheeks and she watched Luke disappear from the room, humming quietly to the baby.

Luke paused in the doorway of their room, taking in the image of his wife, in the same place as she had been for weeks now. Luke hated this. He wanted nothing more than to hide from the world with her, and yet, instead, he was in over his head and she was missing everything.

"Lorelai," Luke said softly, still afraid of disturbing the silence.

She did not stir, and Luke took some steps towards the figure huddled under the covers.

"Lorelai?"

No response.

"Kaley just took her first steps. And you missed it. She's teething and mopey and she just took her first steps... Will pushed himself on the swings last week, and you missed that too."

She twitched slightly, and he knew she was listening. Pulling back the covers to reveal her face, he continued.

"You stay up here, and I get it. Don't think that I don't get it. I lost her too, Lorelai. But we have two babies downstairs right now, being looked after by our neighbours while they wonder where their mother is. You lost her, and now you've gone and taken the mother away from your children. You're not you anymore, and that needs to change. You can't just stay in bed all day. You're missing it. You're missing everything while you're all caught up in this. What are you gonna do? Stay in bed forever? Miss our children growing up? I miss her too, Lorelai, but right now our children miss their mother. They don't understand, they're confused and their mother no longer gets out of bed to see them. They miss their mother, and I miss my wife. I miss you, Lorelai... There's still Will and Kaley, Lorelai, downstairs right now. Wondering where you are, full of life. They still need you."

He knew it needed to be said, he'd been working up to it. But it had come out much harsher than he'd intended.

Lorelai did not respond to him, and he did not wait for her to.

He picked up his wallet off the dresser and strode out of the room without a backwards glance. Lorelai paused for moments. Curling under the covers once more, she shut her eyes tightly and wished it all away.

-XooooX-

When Luke arrived home that night, Lorelai was asleep in bed, just where he expected her to be.

After checking on his sleeping children, and noting that Kaley slept calmly and soundly in her cot, he made his way back to his bedroom.

Without conscious thought, Luke strode confidently about, before arriving in bed to curl himself around his sobbing wife and whisper words of comfort and apology to her late into the night.

-XooooX-

_Just breathe. Easy. It's the easiest motion we learn from our first seconds in this world. In, out. In, out. Easy._

Lorelai lay curled up in her bed, buried under mountains of blankets and pillows, oblivious to the sounds of young children squealing and laughing somewhere in her house. Right now, she had much more pressing matters to attend to. For a moment, just after she'd awoken, she'd forgotten how to breath. All air escaped her, and she had managed to forget just how she was supposed to draw breath. And for a moment, just a moment, she'd wondered if she cared if she never remembered how to breath. To breath would keep her in this world. To not breath... wouldn't.

_Draw deep, from the abdomen, _she told herself, hearing Luke's instructions from weeks ago, when she'd had her first panic attack. They seemed to come occasionally now, every morning when she'd had a wonderful, crazy dream that had been just crazy enough that she'd thought it _all_ had been a dream. She thought that her current reality had just been another aspect to that dream. And it was when the confusion wore of that the breathing stopped, because she realised that she hadn't just been dreaming of a reality without Rory. No, that reality was real, oh so very real.

Clutching her covers into her fist, she willed herself with all her might to, for once, listen to that voice in her head. Her fingers relaxed, then grasped again as a sharp, not satisfying, intake of breath broke through and made its way down into her lungs.

_Almost._

A loud, stomach curling shriek of laughter rang through the house and Lorelai drew deeper, harder.

_Slow, that's it. _

She egged herself on as air, real oxygenated air, filled her lungs in great gulps. She continued to clasp and unfurl the covers as she slowly got her breathing under control.

_There's still Will and Kaley, Lorelai, downstairs right now. Wondering where you are, full of life. They still need you._ She echoed Luke's earlier words in her head and the fight for breath became easier as her body welcomed its old friend back into her lungs.

_tbc_


	7. The Calm Before the Storm

**Hello again. Yes, I know, it's been awhile. But moving past that, I wanted to just let you all know that this is mostly just a filler chapter. I've been informed in previous reviews that I was a bit slow in moving the story along, so instead of waffling on about all the time that is going to pass in this chapter and make this story go for so long it loses all interest, I'm moving it along, and will have only one or two more chapters beyond this. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story, all your reviews keep me interested in continuing this story. Believe me. Anyway, on with the show!**

7. The Calm Before the Storm

The first thing I noticed the next morning was that Tristan had not returned. I sat quietly and waited the day out, counting the hours, minutes and seconds that he did not return to the room. Bernie tried unsuccessfully a couple of times throughout the day to strike up conversation and pass the time, but I did not talk that day. Or the next.

Bernie and I waited days, alone in that room. I counted six, based on the sporadic meals they served us, but really it could have been anywhere from four to about nine. Then, he was returned to us. Battered and bruised, with cuts and blood stains on his dirty uniform, he was most definitely worse for wear.

I nursed him best I could. They gave us nothing for him, so I tore rags from my own and Bernie's clothes. It didn't take long for his cuts to become infected. Slowly, but surely, Tristan got worse and worse. He stopped talking to me when he came back. I have no idea what happened to him, what he went through. What they wanted with him.

-XooooX-

"Lorelai!" Luke called as he barged through the front door of the house, slamming it closed behind him.

"Kitchen!" she called to him, "And I have a surprise waiting!" she excitedly told him. He could hear it in her voice, sense it in her tone: today had been a good day. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the smells drifting through the house, and it hit him like a tonne of bricks the second he swung the door to the kitchen open.

"Hi!" she greeted him with a large smile as she walked toward him, puckering for a kiss.

"What the hell is this?" he asked in a tone filled with humour.

She reached him and pouted when he didn't meet her for a kiss. "I cooked." she said, "And only had a slight disagreement with the stove... Oh, and the mixing bowl." she added as he pulled her to him and peered over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her efforts. The counter and part of the floor was covered in mixture, and Luke realised that his decision to invest in a plastic bowl since they had the kids had been a good idea. "Oh, and by the way, the two left burner thingies need a bit of love." Lorelai told him as she waved in the direction of the stove and pushed the plate of berry pancakes under his nose.

He laughed at her movements and pulled her back in for the kiss he had yet to give her.

"Mmm" she hummed against his lips, bringing one hand behind his neck to hold him there while she motioned with the other one, plate in hand, to put the pancakes on the counter. Unwilling to let him go, she tightened her grip on him and deepened the kiss, and still reaching for the counter, she stumbled sideways, pulling him down on top of her as she crashed ungracefully into the cupboards and landed on the floor.

Luke raised a hand to the side of his head, holding it to the part that crashed into the counter. "Ow," he grumbled, and raised himself up off Lorelai and rubbed his head with one hand and reached down to pull Lorelai up with the other. Laughing hysterically, Lorelai shook her head and brushed her hand over his to inspect the bump.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He didn't respond, simply gazed at her at she continued to grin at him, and thought about how lucky he was today. Tomorrow could be different, probably would be, but for now he had Lorelai back and he would treasure it while he could.

It had been months now. Christmas had come and gone, in fits of tears and tantrums from both his wife and children. In the end, they'd celebrated on December 27th, in enough time for Lorelai to crawl back into bed while they welcomed in the new year. Luke had realised just how lucky they were that their children were still babies, and didn't care when the _real_ date to celebrate was.

There were times, like Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year that Luke would not have expected Lorelai to be able to crawl out of bed. These were all her first holidays without Rory there, the first holidays since she was sixteen that she didn't have Rory with her or to think about. It would take time. And to be frank, she had done better than Luke had expected, better than he, had he the chance, would have been.

For the first time in weeks Luke and Lorelai spent a happy, content night in with their youngest children, warming the recently cold and empty house with shrieks of glee and laughter.

-XooooX-

I had no real experience in a war. Still now, I do not understand the minds of the soldiers or the great plans of wars. All my experience resided in reporting on small outside missions and more recent humanitarian intervention from my job. Knowledge from my modern history studies in high school and biographies and non-fiction books I'd read for fun. That's not to say I wasn't scared. I was in fact terrified. Not knowing what could be coming terrified me. But that did not stop me from being Rory Gilmore, for holding out hope and believing – with no real proof other than a need to believe – that we would be found and saved.

I, like Tristan, was waiting. Unlike him, though, I realised too late, I was waiting for our salvation. It was not the first time in my life I've been naïve, however that time of my life was probably when I was most ignorant. Many times since then, I wish I had tried harder to get Tristan to open up to me. It wouldn't have accomplished much regarding our situation, but maybe it would have helped him a little. I know that is something I will always wonder about.

It wasn't long before they came back for him. They came as before and marched him through the door as he hobbled ahead of them on his infected legs. That was the last day that I saw him.

-XooooX-

Lorelai's birthday passed without much fuss. Luke and Emily decided not to make any plans, insisting to the friends and neighbours that this was another event that they did not want to pressure Lorelai about. This was, however, the first occasion in nearly a year that was celebrated on the day the calender suggested it be. Trust, Lorelai Gilmore would not miss her birthday for anything. Also, it helped that she had small children to help heal wounds she had once believed un-mendable. The day was passed at the zoo, to the joy of both the children and the mother, and the night was spent cuddled in front of the television with her adoring husband. Some, though not as many as expected, tears were shed on that particular day.

This, however, was made up for in the following three days where Lorelai compensated for her joy by remaining buried deep under her covers, refusing all foods and liquids.

-XooooX-

Bernie and I were left in the room by ourselves. It was late winter, that much I know. It was freezing in the little cement room, and the slight colds we contracted would eventually turn to pneumonia for my poor Bernie. But not yet. Still, he was my companion. He tried, so hard, to bring light to our gloom. He tried to give us hope. He tried so hard.

But truth is, we were never quite the same when Tristan didn't return. We held out hope for a long time – too long, really. We fooled ourselves that he would return back to us, maybe bruised and battered again, but he'd be back. We even toyed with the possibility that he'd managed to break free, and would return and free us like some medieval hero in a fairytale (by this stage I was even willing to give up my ingrained feminism and submit to the role of Damsel in Distress in this story). It was truly amazing how his surly quietness could be so missed when it was absent. But we did miss him.

It was like a part of our souls died with him the day we finally admitted to ourselves that he wouldn't be back. Our giving up hope on him was like giving up hope on our ever surviving that hell.

-XooooX-

Soon enough, summer arrived, and with it a visit from one grown daughter, home from her first year at college. April brought with her a nice change of pace, breaking apart the monotonous routine Lorelai and Luke had developed in recent months, since Lorelai had managed to have at least as many good days as bad. April's presence in their house reminded Lorelai of everything she had treasured and lost, but in a good, heart-wrenching way. In the years that she'd known her step-daughter, Lorelai on many occasions had compared her to Rory. Not only were they obviously alike in the intelligence department, but they had a similar warmth and quiet calmness about them that always affected Lorelai in ways she could not describe.

The presence of April in their home for the first half of her summer, however, was what Lorelai needed. In her, she found a fresh, youthful face, ready to absorb as much information as she could come across. In her, she found a warm, generous spirit that filled her heart with love. In her, she found a friend, someone who begged her to share part of herself with her, to see her as someone to trust and respect on her own, new, level. No one could ever replace the daughter she had lost, and no one would ever try to. However, April managed to remind Lorelai that there was nothing wrong with moving beyond that concept of replacement and experiencing a life she had never known, now she had no choice but to do otherwise.

The first half of the summer was passed in happiness, as Luke, Lorelai, April, William and Kaley spent family time together and Lorelai started going in to the _Dragonfly_ some mornings or afternoons. The time was spent in peace, the calm before the storm, as the anniversary of that horrible day slowly crept up on Lorelai, a time that would consume her much like it had the year before.

_tbc_


	8. Anniversaries and Birthdays

**Hello, all. Yes it has returned! Sorry about the time it's taken, but I've had major writers block. Anyway, thank you to Anna Luna and Beth for your encouragement; it really got me working on it again. Hope you all like it! x**

8. Anniversaries and Birthdays

The months had flown by in a flurry of work and routine. Kaley had entered her "terrible twos", Luke had finally started Will playing T-ball, and with the weather getting nicer, the inn was booked beyond its accommodation limits. Life was so regular and normal that Lorelai didn't have warning. She was preoccupied with life as it moved forward, and barely having time to scratch herself, the dates crept up on her. It wasn't until June passed and they were well on their way through the month of July that Lorelai realised just what date was creeping up.

A year had passed. One full, long year since she had seen her daughter. One year since her baby, her best friend, once her whole life, had lived with her. She hadn't held her, talked to her, felt her. And yet, she had somehow miraculously survived. She was still here, a year later, living and breathing. Moving forward, and leaving her baby girl behind.

This was going to be a long month.

-XooooX-

Bernie's pneumonia overtook him as the temperature got warmer. I didn't know it was pneumonia at the time, but I feared. I knew it was not good: pneumonia, hypothermia, or any such illness was not good. Especially not in our situation, where I could do nothing for him.

Such a plump man when I first met him, Bernie withered away in front of my eyes. I mean, he had been thin before he got sick; we were underfed, and I myself was bordering anorexia by that stage, but Bernie, oh poor Bernie shrunk before my eyes. With so many things to be terrified about, it is amazing how much his weight drop scared me.

We had been alone in that room for months now. Thinking back on it, it was probably five or six months since Tristan had left. I have no idea why they kept us there. As far as I know, there was no ransom for a journalist and humanitarian against the US government, looking for hostage exchange, or however they organise those things. But they kept us there, an anorexic girl and a deathly ill middle-aged man. Harmless as can be. We had nothing they wanted or needed, not like Tristan. We knew nothing, and so they didn't take us and question us like they did him; but they didn't do anything else, either. We were remained alone, fed infrequently, and left to rot.

-XooooX-

The days crept slowly by, and Luke held his breath as he observed his wife. So far, nothing had really changed. She got up most days, worked through her routine, played with the kids, and put herself to bed at night. To the outside eye, nothing much had changed. To Luke's eye, however, he knew. She was feeling it, waiting for the day to arrive, but trying to ignore it as well. Lorelai Gilmore was nothing if not a fantastic avoider of reality.

She tried to ignore it. She tried really, really hard. But when April made her disappearance to New Mexico for the rest of her summer, all bets were off and Lorelai was faced with a hard, cold reality she didn't want to face. As much as she had been telling herself she hadn't, she had substituted one daughter for another. While she was well aware that April was not Rory, her presence had allowed Lorelai to hold onto something so... Rory. She couldn't explain what it was, exactly, maybe just the comfort of a grown daughter, a young friend who wasn't living quite so close to the picture. Whatever it was, Lorelai realised she'd lost it the second April left the house for her trip south.

That night, Lorelai faced the reality and cried herself to sleep.

After that night, all bets were off and the change Luke had been waiting for exploded before his eyes. In the weeks leading up the the anniversary, Lorelai had more bad days than good, and camped herself once again in her bedroom.

Luke calmly took this deterioration as calmly as he could, having been prepared for this for weeks, and having experienced it many times in the last year. He had already made plans for the diner, had discussed options for the inn with Sookie and Michel, and had organised as many activities and play dates as he could for the kids in the following weeks in order to make himself available for his wife. This time, with this kind of preparation, Luke wondered if he would have a chance to mourn too.

The day arrived with minimal fuss. Lorelai, as everyone expected, stayed in bed. And as soon as Luke saw Will and Kaley off with Emily and Richard, who had insisted they spend the day with their remaining grandchildren, he knew where his day would pass. He would be where he wanted to be more than anything in this world.

As quietly as he could, Luke crept back into his bedroom and crawled in behind his wife, wanting to just hold her. For the first time in a year, Luke had allowed himself time to grieve for the lost daughter. He held her to him as she cried to his chest, and she clutched at him as he left droplets in her hair. Looking beyond the circumstances, it was a beautiful day, a magnificent image of the couple laying in each other's arms, the bright blue sky shining through the curtains in the background. The immense pain and sorrow, however, could not be confused nor ignored.

For the first anniversary, Luke held Lorelai on her Dark Day.

-XooooX-

Two months passed, as Lorelai brought herself back into her world and her life. She had lived through the pain and misery for more than a year now, she had survived a whole year and still continued to. However, another trial approached as the holiday season began to near. Rory's birthday. What would have been her twenty-eighth year was creeping upon her poor grieving mother. Yes, she had passed one October Eighth without her daughter already, but last year it had slipped by, unnoticed. She was in the depth of her wallowing last year, and so this birthday seemed fresh. She recognised the date and it hurt like hell.

The morning of October Eight, Lorelai lay staring at the blaring green light of her alarm clock, informing her it was exactly 4:03am. The pain in her chest was at its greatest, so much so that it felt like it was going to rip right out of her chest. For the first time in seven months, Lorelai thought she felt the beginnings of another panic attack brewing. But for that minute, she forgot to notice, and to care.

She blinked thoughtfully as the time clicked over to 4:04 and nothing happened. The world had continued turning, nothing jumped out of the darkness at her, nothing moving nor made a noise. At 4.05, Luke's arm snaked around her and brushed a kiss to her shoulder. She let him pull her to himself, and closing her eyes tight she relaxed into his embrace. "Tell me," he murmured into her shoulder, offering her the chance to either tell him the long-practised story so she had a chance to, or to voice all her thoughts and feelings.

She sighed and pressed back into his arms. "I don't want to just let it pass," she finally said.

He kissed her shoulder again, and neither moved again, nor fell asleep, until Will poked his head into their room to inform them he had, for the first time in months, wet his bed. As Lorelai soothed the distressed boy, Luke rose and quickly stripped the bed for his son's peace of mind.

That day, Luke had expected to again spend in bed with his wife. However, when he came downstairs after sticking Will into the shower, he found Lorelai in the kitchen talking to Sookie, who had again made herself at home in his kitchen.

"Hey Luke!" she greeted him nervously as Lorelai handed him the cup of tea she'd prepared for him. "I just came by to see how things were before I left for work, you know, see what I could do." she fidgeted nervously as she glanced at a calm Lorelai who studied her intently. "And then when I got here, you were all still in bed and I thought I'd prepare you some breakfast in case you didn't get the chance, what with today being so..."

Trailing off, she glanced between Lorelai and Luke. Seeing Lorelai studying her closely and Luke's indifferent face glancing into his tea, she nervously finished, "Well, I just wanted to help!"

Luke rose from his stool next to Lorelai, and rounded the counter towards to kettle to refill his cup, and said, "It's fine, Sookie. Thanks," He added more sincerely. If the last year had taught him anything, it was to be more accepting of friendly offers of assistance. Especially when people were offering help more for their own peace of mind, just like he had for so many years.

Luke leaned back against the counter, facing the kitchen, once his cup had been refilled, and let his eyes drift to his wife who still sat silently on her stool. Before he could ask, Lorelai said, "I want to do something today."

"Okay," he answered easily.

"I want to go out, breath some fresh air, you know?"

"Okay,"

She rose from her stool, and leaving her mug on the counter said more confidently, "I'm gonna go take a shower."

He watched her wait for his "Okay," again before she turned on her heel and headed upstairs.

Sookie let out a tired, relieved sigh before handing the bowl of waffle mix to Luke and informing him that now she was heading out to work. She closed the front door with a parting statement of "Take care of her!", as if all these months that was the thing Luke had been forgetting to do. Luke nodded to her words as though it was the best advise he'd heard in years, and poured some mix into the waffle iron.

Twenty minutes later, Lorelai appeared back in the kitchen with an impatient toddler in her arms crying for food and an upset child yabbering questions at his father, wondering why his dad had not waited for his help with breakfast this morning when every other morning he needed Will's help.

The day went fine. They took the kids to the circus that was showing in a neighbouring town, took them on a picnic lunch, then spent the afternoon at the lake. Early in the evening, on their way home, Lorelai asked Luke to drop her in the town square. Unable to argue with her, he left her and took the kids home, knowing that what she wanted was some time of the day for herself. Shaking his head, he wondered whether the town would be smart enough to leave her be today. Sometimes, when they tried too hard to help, it just made it that much harder.

After circling the town one time, Lorelai strolled towards the big tree plated in the centre of town. On this tree, Rory had spent many years of her youth reading after school, under the watchful eyes of Taylor, Patty, Andrew, Luke and Gypsy, all who could see her from their places of business. Now attached to the tree, is the plaque Taylor had fixed for the memorial service more than a year previously. Lorelai had avoided this particular tree since that day, but today, it was her main focus. As she reached it, she reached out and gently stroked the gold lettering, marvelling at the perfect little rectangle that said nothing and held no significance as far as Lorelai could see. It was a pointless little artefact, and surprisingly held so little meaning.

Lorelai sighed, saddened that she could get nothing more out of this stop, and instead headed to the next location. She knew this next stop would be harder: she was going home.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Lorelai walked behind the old dilapidated building. She knew better than to walk through the main structure, it was still as charred and unstable as it was many years ago when it was shut. No, Lorelai could deal with not walking through there, there were other places around here she could visit. Walking behind the old Independence Inn, she made her way towards the lake and the old potting shed. The garden around this part of the property was what she had wanted to see anyway. She knew this wouldn't be easy, but it was time. And she had time.

She was there for hours that evening. She sat on a bench outside the shed until the sun went down, gazing out over the garden to the lake, remembering. In her sight, she could see a young child laughing and playing with her young mother; she could see laughing children running and screaming over the lawn, as a clown was led away by the town policeman; she could see her three-year-old daughter crying because the grass was wet and she was being forced to walk on it by her mother; and over, under a tree by the lake, sat a pair of seven-year-old girls giggling and braiding grass and flowers together.

Softly, tears cascaded down her cheek, longing for that child back, for the time when she herself was nothing but a child. Those days weren't exactly carefree, but they were filled with so much love and happiness and inner peace that she was afraid she would never be able to find again.

The sun set over the lake, falling behind the trees, and Lorelai remained perched on the rusty old bench. Not until twilight had really set in, did she stand. Turning to the shed she had called home for nine years, she reached out and grazed her palm against the wall, simply feeling it. It marvelled her now, realising what they had grown through, how she had managed. But there some something about the simplicity about that life, being so joyous with so little in her life. Her daughter, a job, and a couple of friends. Few possessions, no complicated relationships were welcome in her heart. It was just her daughter, her whole being.

Her hand stretched out along the wall towards the door, and the rest of her followed, as if being pulled. The open door let in no light, night having set in. But Lorelai didn't need it. She leaned against the door frame, gazing into her old home as she let the memories and feelings wash over her. Running her had down along the inseam on the door frame, she sighed dramatically before turning and leaving it all behind. At least for another year, she told herself.

As she made her way home, her legs followed a once familiar path before she had any control over where she was going. She had made this trip for seven years, and Lorelai wondered if it was habit that led her here. Or maybe her subconscious had needed to visit this home too. Either way, Lorelai found herself hidden in the trees gazing upon the blue house. The product of all those years spent living at the Inn in near poverty. She stood quietly, arms crossed in front of herself in protection and let her mind wander. She had not planned on visiting this home. It was not just Rory's home with her, and so felt less special than the potting shed. They meant two completely different things in her heart, but this was the home Lorelai had worked for for Rory.

Lights were on in the house. The Hewitt's lived here now, the elderly couple that bought the house four years ago now. They were pleasant and friendly enough for Lorelai not to be uncomfortable selling to them when they retired and moved out of the city into the charming small town. Inside, Lorelai knew that they had probably finished their dinner, and were playing board games or dancing around the living room. They were a lively pair and spent every day with plans, so as not to lose moments of their life. Or so Mrs Hewitt always said.

Lorelai stood outside, like a deranged stalker, for only about ten minutes. This time, no tears sprang forth. Maybe she was finally out of them. But what crossed her mind, was the years she spent alone in that house more than the ones spent with Rory. Realising with great difficulty, she was glad she no longer lived in that house. While their new home had little memories of her eldest daughter, having not lived at home long before they moved there, Lorelai found it refreshing. It was so hard, some days. The new house smelled and sounded like children, and gave her memories of her other babies. Memories that made her happy, not sad. As she walked away, towards the home she now knew she was very grateful to have, she wondered how some parents survived the deaths of their children. Without the support and life she was surrounded with everyday, she knew she wouldn't be here today, more than a year later to reminisce.

Tiredly, Lorelai made her way into the house, and went directly to the fridge, hoping to re-hydrate herself. In the back of her mind, she realised that she had not received a call from her undoubtedly worried husband in the last couple of hours, and was very grateful. She listened intently, but could only water running. She smiled softly to herself, thinking of her babies passed out from exhaustion in their beds, but the smile dropped of her face instantly as her gaze held on the door at the other end of the room. The door that had remained firmly closed for about ten months now. Remembering what she had thought about 'Rory memories' in this house, Lorelai's brow crinkled in horror at the feelings of happiness she had felt less than an hour previously. Hearing that the shower was still running above her, she walked swiftly to the door. She had to know. She had to feel it.

Swinging the door open sharply, with no concern about disturbance, she looked searchingly through the darkness that filled the room. Turning the light on, she stepped though the room and looked around as if expecting to see Rory in there hidden behind or underneath some piece of furniture. She had been in this room, had lived in this room. Though only for a couple of months as she waited for a new job to arise after the campaign, she had lived here. As an adult. She had stayed here less than a week before leaving that last time, to Israel. Not sure exactly what it was she was looking for, she knew she would know when she found it. Whatever it was.

Luke found her in this state minutes later, fresh from his shower and dressed for bed.

"Lorelai!" he called to her, shocked at finding her tear about the room.

"Yeah," she responded, barely aware of his presence.

He walked up to her and grabbed hold of her by the wrists to hold her still. "Lorelai," she finally looked at him, his concerned expression hardly bearable for her, "What are you doing?"

She stood calmly, no fight in her. Shrugging her shoulders, she responded easily, "Trying to feel it."

He paused and looked at her for a moment, trying to read her. Finally, he asked, "Feel what?"

Lorelai sighed one more time before shrugging him off to sit on the edge of Rory's bed. She controlled her thoughts before delving into an explanation. "I just... want to feel it."

She didn't continue for a long minute, in which he took a seat next to her and grasped her hand in his, waiting patiently for her to continue with his support.

"I don't feel it. Like she's gone. Shouldn't I feel it?"

Luke's heart dropped as he heard her say this. He remembered a similar conversation on the day of the memorial service over a year ago, but she had accepted it, he'd thought she'd come to terms with everything. Briefly, he wondered if her being so close to her normal self is because she'd been in denial for months.

"Lorelai..."

"I know what you're gonna say. But just let me say this," she looked searchingly into his eyes, hoping to find understanding, "Please, Luke."

He nodded his consent for her to continue, all the while knots returned to his stomach as he waited for her dreaded words to be said.

"I went to the Independence Inn today. I sat outside the potting shed, and mourned for her." She whispered her story to Luke, her voice choking at times, knowing how ridiculous she knew she was going to sound. "I cried for the little girl I loved and raised there, for the years we spent by ourselves, totally content. Before she grew and our lives became separate, you know, my life and her life."

Luke watched her quietly, waiting for her to tell her story.

"I mourned the little girl she hasn't been for almost twenty years. I mourned the happiness we shared in those years. Everything that has been gone for so long now, long before all of this. On my way home, I went by the Crapshack. I just stood and gazed at it for awhile, and mourned the teenager she grew into in that house. In that house, we each made our own lives, separate of each other. We both grew up properly. I met you when we lived in that house."

She paused for a moment, trying to read his unchanging expression. She needed to explain this right, she didn't need him to think she was any crazier than she already was.

"I mourned my perfect, book-loving, shy teenager she was in that house. I mourned my less perfect, young adult daughter she was when she visited home during school breaks. I mourned my grown daughter. But when I was standing there, I realised I mourned so many aspects of what she was, but not what she is. Or at least, was last time we saw her. It's like," she paused for a second, hoping she'd say this right, "It's like, my adult daughter, the woman she became was never in my thoughts in that mourning period. She's not here, Luke. I'd feel her. I mean, I don't know that much about death, but she should be connected to me, right? I should feel that she's dead. It's like, when someone you love is hit by a car, miles away, you know something is wrong. You can feel the person you love slipping out of this life. I didn't feel it then, Luke."

Before he could say anything, because she could see him trying to get a word in, she cut across him. "I know she's dead, Luke. You don't need to talk that into me. I just... It's like I was mourning for everything she hasn't been in years, but when I think of the woman I saw off on that plane... I think, shouldn't I feel it? She was a part of me. Shouldn't I feel that she has moved on and is at peace? Or that she's here, really inside me? But I feel nothing. I don't feel pain or peace for that Rory. I feel nothing! Nothing, Luke! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Tears started to roll down her cheek as she looked at him, waiting for him to give her all the answers she sought.

He had no answers for her. "I don't know," he all but whispered before drawing her into him, brushing his hand through her hair, soothing her the best way he knew how.

-XooooX-

October passed in much more pain and sorrow, as Lorelai and Luke tried to bring back their normal lives after the moment in Rory's room on her birthday. As November started, so did a happier time for Lorelai as she planned a birthday extravaganza for Luke's birthday, hoping to make up for ignoring his previous one.

In her attempts to make this birthday as wonderful as she could, she arranged for a trip into New York, where she took him to see the Yankees play the Red Sox, something she had wanted to do for him for years now. April came home for the weekend, and so the five of them made a day of celebrating his birthday. It was a day of pure happiness on their parts, the first day in a long time. As Luke lay in bed, late that night, Lorelai wrapped in his arms, he believed for the first time in a long time that they were going to be okay.

The next evening, Luke and Lorelai sat contently on the couch, basking in the aftermath of a truly happy weekend. April had left not long before, headed back to school, and they had decided to have a movie night with the kids, rounding off the weekend. Will and Kaley sat immersed in front of the TV as The Incredibles played for them, while their parents snuggled on the couch whispering teasingly to each other. Just as Elasta-girl and the Incredible kids crash-land on the island in search of Mr Incredible, the phone began to ring.

"It's probably April, telling us she forgot something again," Luke said as he moved to stand.

"I got it!" Lorelai said quickly as she sprung from the couch quicker than Luke had seen her move in years. He watched her disappear into the hall as she called back to him, "She likes me better anyway!"

Luke snorted in response as he followed her, deciding whatever was going on on that phone would interest him way more than the washed-up obese superhero in the cartoon.

"Hello," Lorelai said into the phone milliseconds after the ringing stopped.

"Hello, is Mrs Lorelai Danes there please?"

"Speaking," she answered, a crease appearing on her brow.

Luke imitated the look and mouthed _What?_ to his wife. She shook her head slightly at him as she listened intently to the person on the other end of the line.

"... I don't know many details, but she has no deathly injuries as far as we know. She's in one piece and is relatively coherent." Lorelai's hand covered her mouth as she registered what she was being told.

"Uh," Lorelai interrupted, momentarily forgetting how to make words, "Uh, what do I do? How do I get there?"

"Well, actually you don't. She's already on a plane back to the states. She was well enough to leave straight away, and we like to send them home as soon as possible. She's arrive in New York tomorrow morning, before being admitted to Bellevue Hospital Centre. You can see her there, as long as the hospital permits it."

"I... uh... thank you," Lorelai finally spluttered to the man on the other line.

"No problem," he answered easily, "These are the calls I like to make. If you have any questions, please call me. Take care."

"Uh- bye," she answered him distractedly, not noticing she didn't take a number from the man, nor remembered what name he gave her. She carefully ended the call before looking up at Luke, confusion covering her face.

"What's wrong?" He asked her timidly, scared of what news she had just been given. His thoughts drifted to Emily and Richard and worry began to set in.

Her eyes rose to meet his and she told him, wonderment still covering her face, "Rory's alive."

_tbc_


	9. Reunion

**Hello to everyone who still hasn't given up on this story! I know, I am terrible at the updating thing. But good news, there will only be one more after this chapter! Yay! Soo... anyway, this one is kinda short, but very emotional and I thought it was a good place to finish. Anyway, enjoy, and hopefully I won't make you all wait too long for the update :)**

I really was in a terrible state the day they came. My memory of the time I spent in that room is amazingly good when it comes to certain moments. However, the day of my salvation is ironically one I have little knowledge of. I know now it was September 18th. I didn't have much awareness of that fact for weeks. I also don't remember the face of that man, the one who carried me out. I remember a calmness wash over me when he sat down next to me in the army Jeep as we drove away. I remember he was kind and tried to get me talking. But his face is as blurry as all the details. I guess I was mostly concerned about one thing. And that one thing was hunched in the corner, clutching my hand like it was his lifeline. I don't know how to explain the feeling of calmness and dread that washed over and intermingled within me.

I felt hope restore in my heart, but my faith in everything good had torn out with the part of my soul I left behind in that room. I could only hope for the best, and trust in nothing to give me the one thing I desired in that moment.

As I watched Bernie struggle to breathe beside me, I knew that I wasn't even going to get that.

-XooooX-

The long, depressing hallway stretched out before them as Luke led Lorelai through the hospital. Luke stared straight ahead, purposefully avoiding any gazes into the rooms they passed, determined to just get to where they were going. Past uneasiness reverberated through him, and a long-forgotten desire to get through the hall as quickly as he could resulted in him dragging his wife behind him. Even though his most recent dealings in hospitals had been for more joyous reasons than those of twenty years ago, his disdain for hospitals would probably continue for the rest of his life.

Approaching room 423, Luke slowed his pace, and Lorelai's hand tightened in his. They faced the closed door, and Luke looked toward Lorelai, ready to hand over the reins to her. He indicated for her to go in. She took a deep breath, and went to move towards the door before she hesitated right in front of it. She turned back to Luke when she felt his hand brush her back and sought his eyes out. He recognised the fear in her eyes, the bright blue irises searching for the courage she suddenly lacked.

"It'll be fine." He murmured, determination emanating out of his eyes and into hers. He didn't know where his sudden surety came from, but it seemed to spread to Lorelai nonetheless.

Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and nodded to him. "I just..." she started, but found herself unable to finish, and instead added a shrug and shake of her head.

"I know." He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "I know."

Taking another deep, shaky breath, she pulled away from him, and took his hand again. She paused, hand on the door handle for a second, then, finding the courage inside her, pulled open the door in one swift motion. She stepped over the threshold, pulling Luke with her, and in slow but determined steps approached the only occupied bed in the long ward.

She lay with her back turned towards the door in a bed somewhat in the middle of the room.

"Rory?" Lorelai whispered when she reached the bed. Unsure if sound had actually escaped her lips, she felt the butterflies in her stomach increase from moderate to extreme levels as the shape in the bed slowly turned towards her. Her stomach sank, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked into the battered face of her lost child. Blue pierced blue as their eyes met and they stared each other down in a moment that could have been eternity.

"Mummy," Rory croaked out for the first time in over a year. She didn't say anything else, but looked up at her mother like a small child waking up from a terrible nightmare. Lorelai cringed when she realised that Rory was in fact waking up from the worst nightmare imaginable.

Lorelai held her daughters' gaze for a moment, relishing the feeling of actually seeing her again, but pounced on her the moment her senses clicked and the reality hit. _Rory was alive. Alive and here, right in front of her._

Lorelai climbed onto the bed and pulled Rory into her arms, and just held her. Tears streaming down both their cheeks, Rory buried her head into Lorelai's chest, and Lorelai held it tightly to her. Relief, exhaustion and heart break mixed through the tears they cried together on that bed, cleansing and purifying themselves with their unimaginable love.

Luke stood back and watched as he witnessed the emotional reunion. He was suffering from so many emotions, but for the first time in over a year he allowed himself to feel relief and complete happiness in seeing the girl they had lost and grieved for actually alive and back in her mother's arms. As he felt this happiness wash over him, he thanked whatever powers-that-be for this moment. In this moment there was nothing but Lorelai's love for Rory shining through the empty room. There was no pain and sadness, no heartbreak or loneliness. The heart-wrenching sobs were muffled by the comfort each drew from the other. In this moment, there was just a woman and her child. Two best friends in a long-awaited reunion. This moment was beautiful, and Luke revelled in it.

Not long after, as Lorelai lay with Rory on the hospital bed, Luke was ushered away by a nurse and asked to complete as many medical forms as he could. He confirmed for them that it was in fact Rory Gilmore they had found, and was updated on her condition. Beyond the physical signs of malnourishment and abuse, given in more words than he could understand, Luke was informed that his step-daughter had been found in a prisoner-of-war situation, locked in a room with an older gentleman, found by marines during a raid. The whole situation was more than Luke could handle, knowing where Rory had been, hurting for her more than ever.

"We need to keep her for at least a few weeks. Obviously she needs to be healthy enough to walk out of here. But she's also been appointed a councillor that specialises with marines after they return from service. She has gone through a lot, and is very much alone. The man she came in with is in intensive care right now, and we're not too sure about him."

When Luke did not respond right away, the nurse continued, "I was here when they arrived. Your daughter hasn't spoken to anyone. She hasn't reacted or noticed anyone except you and your wife. We will arrange for you to meet with Dr Calloway and she can discuss this with you further."

As the woman continued to yabber in his ear, Luke turned back toward the ward Rory was occupying and pictured them, feeling his heart break a little more even as his world began to piece itself back together.

-XooooX-

They stayed in a hotel in the city that night. Exhausted from the day, Lorelai walked straight into the bathroom and had a long, luxurious shower. Dropping the car keys onto the table near the door, Luke heaved himself onto the couch, lay against the back and allowed his brain to continue ticking.

It was in this position that Lorelai found him, the silence enveloping them as she towel-dried her hair. He turned toward her and tried to gauge her feelings towards the whole day, to see how she was. But on catching sight of her, he saw an image so familiar it was odd at this moment, as far as he was concerned.

She had pressed the portable hotel phone to her ear as she waited for the line to connect. Before he could speak, the line was answered.

"Mum. Oh, uh hi. I'm so glad I got you... Yes, I do know what time it is as a matter of fact... No, not bad news. Good actually. I don't really know how to tell you this, but we're in New York right now..."

-XooooX-

"I checked in with Liz and the kids are fine. Long asleep." Luke entered the bedroom, where Lorelai had long ago removed herself to.

"Oh. Good." She sat at the vanity, not really seeing her reflection, but continued to de-tangle her hair nonetheless.

He took more steps into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "How'd it go? It was like the phone call that never ended."

Turning to face him, her expressions re-appeared as she became a party to her favourite past time. "She actually asked if I was _sure_. Was I _positive_ it was her? Unbelievable! As if I don't know my own daughter!" She huffed and threw herself onto the bed.

Turning again to face her, he responded, "I'm sure that's not what she meant."

"No of course not," Lorelai spoke softer now, dragging her fingers through her hair as she spoke to the roof. "I know how she felt. I felt it. I mean, it's not like we told anyone until we were sure. Need to see it to believe it. I get it." Turning her face to look into his, she said, "So... they'll be here tomorrow."

"Oh..." he fidgeted with his hands for a moment before telling her, "I told Liz, so all of Stars Hollow should be privy by tomorrow morning."

She turned her gaze back to the roof. "Oh."

"I told her to make sure she told Sookie first. I can only imagine how she'd feel if she found out from Patty. And that way Jackson can help spread the word."

A worry line creased her forehead. "I should probably call her myself."

Laying down and pulling her to him, he said, "Not necessary. We've done a lot today. She'll understand you can't go through another call like that tonight."

"I should want to tell everyone. I should want to shout it from the rooftops. I mean, I do, but I just feel like it's too much." A tear trailed down her cheek. "I don't know."

"She's really alive," Luke whispered into her hair as he fought his own tears back. "She's really here, and alive."

"Told you," Lorelai responded petulantly as she hid a grin into his chest before spending another emotional night shedding more tears than she ever thought possible.

-XooooX-

One joke my mother continued with the entire time I spent at the hospital was that she should be hooked up to an IV and placed into the bed next to mine, having lost so much fluid through her tears she must be so dangerously dehydrated. Truth is we cried more in those days than I ever remember in my whole life, including the funeral I held for my caterpillar on the day I discovered not all caterpillars would become butterflies. But that is another coming-of-age story for another time.

Bernie did not walk out of that hospital like I did. I did manage to say goodbye, though, and thank him for everything he'd given me before they rolled him down into the morgue. I'm not sure how much he knew but that moment stays on my mind a lot of the time. That sorrow is much easier to bear than the pain of the months before that moment.

_tbc_

**Soo... hate to be one of those people begging for reviews, but what do you all think? Have I managed to make it feel real? Love to know your insight :)**


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